


Dollhouse

by DyingFable



Series: Involves Destiel 10/10 of the Time [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Affairs, Alternate Universe, Ben is a total weedhead, Castiel is a stripper, Emma is the awkward teenager from a one night stand ages ago, Episode: s04e17 It's a Terrible Life, I am so sorry, Multi, Past Rape, no detail hallelujah
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-11-04
Updated: 2015-03-08
Packaged: 2018-02-23 21:44:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 10,757
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2556824
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DyingFable/pseuds/DyingFable
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Emma is the average non-fiction main character female of her little story. The problem? The story isn't the same.<br/>-<br/>"Ben buys weed.<br/>Emma goes home.<br/>Dad calls in late.<br/>Mom drinks till she's unconscious."</p><p>**Updates are every Tuesday**<br/>Next Update: idk lmao</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Mom, Please Wake Up

**Author's Note:**

> Based off of Melanie Martinez's "Dollhouse"  
> yes it's a song fic  
> no you don't have to listen to the song  
> but holy hell would it make a lot of sense

She's laying there.  _Again_. Her arm hanging limply off the couch with the fingers loosely wrapped around the side of her flask. Her lips are parted, some sort of alcoholic beverage lets its smell linger over her cherry red lips. Her eyes are closed, purple layers overlapping one another beneath her long, fake lashes. The right ones starting to fall off, it's always the right. That's the one she rubs the tears from first and last.

It's not the best description you can give an average mother, but Emma's mother wasn't exactly average either.

It's a routine now, Dad calls in that he'll be late, mom orders take out and sets Dad's colon safe meal in the microwave. Emma eats in the living room, listening to her mother's drunk rants about how her father never spends time with his kids.

Kids. As in multiple.

Emma has a younger brother.  _Half_ -brother as she's always reminded. It's Lisa's, her step-mother. Ben doesn't eat in the living room with them. He takes his meal upstairs to his room and shovels it in his mouth like a starved cannibal that can only survive on 'China Buffet's noodles. It's only because he has his schedule, one before school, one after school, one after dinner. He can barely hold out, even with the special directions for a speedy delivery. He doesn't ever notice Dad not being there.

Dad doesn't stay at work, Emma knows this. He stays out and heads over to "August's", one of the lesser known strip clubs around town. He always asks for the same dancer,  _Angel_ is what he's called. He babysat once a few years back, she got to know him by his real name: Castiel. That's right,  _him_. Emma would've been grateful to have discovered about her father's bisexuality than having him come home one night, Emma being one secretly there, only to have load sex in the room in-between hers and Ben's.

But Emma can't complain, her family has lived this way for years. Countless repeats of the same 365 days.

Ben buys weed.

Emma goes home.

Dad calls in late.

Mom drinks till she's unconscious.

It's all a big game, a routine if you will. It's the secret side of the seemingly 'perfect' family.

She's living in a dollhouse.

Her mother isn't moving, at least, the obvious parts of her body aren't. You can't still see her lips cave in and push out a little with each breath. If she keeps this up she'll be dead before Emma graduates in a few months. Emma steps back, stomach now lacking the strength to continue watching. She moves around the couch and up the stairs, holding her breath when she passed Ben's smoke filled room.

Her jaw clenches, remembering what he'd said he'd do if she told anyone. She swallows the lump in her throat, moves past Ben's door, and pushes her bedroom door open, locking it behind her quickly and letting out her trapped breath. She breathes in and flicks the light off, moving blindly ahead toward her bed and sitting down.

She hates her life, how twisted it is, how she's seemingly the only moderately normal person in her house. She's the broken doll, the one that see's everything but says nothing.

She grabs the thick duvet and pulls it around herself, shielding herself from the outside world.

The door knob jiggles and Emma realizes her father has come home. He hasn't been gone long, so he's probably grabbing something and making a fake excuse to bolt and screw his pretty little 'Angel' to Hell.

Emma laughs quietly at her silent insult and stops when her dad actually knocks She unravels herself from the sheets and moves toward the door, unlocking it and allowing her father to step in.

"Hey Em, do you need any laundry done? I'm gonna be out so I figured I could... take some clothes to the laundry mat. Anything you need washed?"

Emma gets the innuendo and pulls some legit dirty clothes before tossing her least favorable pair of underwear in the mix.

She curses mentally at her father and his weird kinks with his 'Holy Slut' and hands him him the laundry basket. For all she knows they could be doing way worse when she's not around. He could be having 'Angel" reciting psalms just to get into her father's pants.

Sicko.

She ignores the gratitude she gets from her father and waits for him to leave before she can close the door again.

Ben groans at something, probably hitting his sex-craving stage of the most recent blunt. Emma grabs her iPod and blares meaningless lyrics into her head, drilling every note and beat she can to drown out all other outside noises that threatens to overpower the tune.

The lyrics say something loving. 

Emma can't feel a thing.

She let's out a useless prayer to no one in particular.

 _Mom... please wake up_.


	2. Dad's With a Slut

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've had this done for a while, but was too busy this past week to get it updated. Apparently some people think it's interesting enough to read? Cool, glad you like this terrible thing I scribble out when I'm bored.

The next day is Saturday, thank god. Emma has conflicting feelings about the day, but it's all worth it because she'll get to be alone for  a few hours.

Because Ben no longer has his regular school schedule to use alongside his blunt agenda, he has to distract himself with something else. He usually ends up begging his mother to take him to a movie or one of the festivals that never seem to shut down.

Emma's glad for some time to herself, but it can't last long. Her father, big-shot manager of Sales at Sandover, only works half a day on Saturdays, so he'll be back with Angel by three after eating at the club of course.

Finally, after a long argument with herself, Emma sits up. Her long hair sticks up in different directions, all clumped against her scalp. She's been wallowing in the blankets for over an hour. Her mother had already left with Ben about forty-five minutes ago. She yawns and checks her clock, groaning at how early it was and falling back against the bed. She has school to blame for training her to get up early, it's twenty minutes till eight for god's sake. She pulls the covers away and moves downstairs, seeing her father spread some organic blueberry jam on whole grain toast. She stifles a gag at the breakfast choice and grabs a box of cereal and a bowl.

"I'll be picking up your clothes on my way home from work." he sighs, taking an oversized bite of toast and checking the time. "I'll be home by three, I might come by with some lunch for you too. Stay out of trouble." he calls back at her, grabbing his briefcase and leaving.

Emma pours the milk over her cereal and makes a face, sniffing the milk and choking a bit. She tosses the bowl in the sink and pours the rest of the milk down the drain before grabbing a sticky note and writing about a future grocery run. Her stomach growls, desperate for food now. If  she could hold out for a little longer she could wait for her uncle to come by with some breakfast when he comes to clean. 

There's a knock at the door and Emma groans, realizing her early-bird uncle would of course already be here. She whips the door open, practically dangling her head back to look up at him.

"Hey there kiddo!" he replies cheerily.

Emma:

"Hello, Earth to Emma!" he coos, waving his hand in her vision. "Still not much of a talker? I get it, I was like you at your age except... a lot shorter."

Emma doesn't reply, instead turning her back to him and heading for the stairs while he let himself in. He mumbles something about Dean having to teach her some manners then continues on. Every other Saturday he stops by the apartment to clean. With Lisa barely able to stay conscious and sober, and maids still too expensive for a family of four, Sam was happy to step in for some extra pay. He was already at the lowest job at Sandover, he's only there because Emma's father talked greatly about him.

Emma can't help but feel bad for him, he's a genius, but can't get into college after an accident years ago. He can't afford it, nor does he want to relive the accident again. She head upstairs, Sam moving toward the hall closet to grab the necessary cleaning supplies. She shuts her bedroom door behind her and stands there for a moment, breathing in the messy teenage girl fumes before sitting on her bed.

The vacuum downstairs hums on and Emma plugs her ears with headphones, playing music to drown out the noise.

 

Emma doesn't realize she's fallen asleep until the front door bangs open and giggles echo through the hallway. She sits up and rubs her eyes, realizing Sam had left and her father had come home. She checks her iPod's battery and curses herself for not charging it and playing it way too long. She rolls out of her covers, frantically searching for something else to plug her ears with when she hears it. She swallows, tears brimming her eyes when a moan exits _Angel's_ lips. She bites her lip, trying to imagine it all as a bad dream, and pulls the covers over her head again, mashing pillows over her ears in hopes of blocking out the noise.

It goes on for what feels like hours, moaning and loud panting, finally choked out screams of another name before it's finally over. Emma pulls away the pillows, ears ringing from the sudden rush of sound. She sits up, covers rolling off of her back and the door slicks open, a muffled goodbye and the sound of footsteps leaving her father's room, passing hers, and heading down the steps.

Now's her cue. She throws a pillow over her face, covers herself and lays there limp and quiet until she can hear her father opening her bedroom door.

"Emma? Do you need me to pick up something to eat while I get your clothes?" Emma swallows her tears and chokes out a yes, hoping it didn't sound as cracked as it felt. Her father's quiet for a second. "Okay, I'll grab you a burger or something. I'll be back soon." he says quietly, clicking the door shut. Emma waits until she hears the front door open and close, then screams into her pillow, tears streaking her face as she tries to let out her emotions to prepare herself for the next week of repeats.


	3. Your Son is Smoking Cannabis

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SHIT MAN WARNINGS FOR PAST RAPE UGH I NEED TO EDIT THE TAGS AND SHIT DAMN

Sunday was simple; Dad made an excuse to see Sam only to bolt for the strip club, Lisa drank away her conscious, and Ben doesn't come out of his room until it's his turn for chores.

Sunday was also chore day, a day Emma despised, but never loathed. She would get her chores done, force Lisa into bed, then face  _Ben_. He was a spoiled little rat, lucky to have both of his parents still in his life. Emma didn't get that, her mother left her with Dean, her father, and bolted. She was more or less an accessory for him, the entire 'single ladies dig single father' thing going straight to his head too often.

But Ben was treated differently. He was never questioned when his grades started to slip, never asked why his room smelled weird or why he snuck out at night. Emma knows the answers, of course, but refrains from saying anything because of last time.

She was a sophomore when it happened, she had followed Ben out of curiosity only to catch him with a group of men smoking marijuana. She wanted to leave, run away and tell her parents, but something was in her way as always. A man stood behind her, 25 from the detail she could make out in the dark alley. He brought her forward to the group. Lastly earning Ben's attention. Once they'd figured out who she was and what relation she had with Ben, they asked  _him_ what would happen to her.

Ben had  _shrugged_ , as if his half-sisters life didn't mean a thing to him. He turned to leave, calling back to them to do whatever they wanted, then bolted out of sight. What Emma would  _give_ to not remember that night would make a pastor faint. They'd drugged her, raped her, and left her for the cops. When she got home, Ben threatened it'd happen again; but gave her another option.

Ben: "Keep quiet about it, and I'll make sure nothing ever happens to you again. You've seen the way mom and dad have been acting, imagine how devastated they'd be if they found out."

At first his reasoning seemed awful, then he hit her in the weak spot.

"You don't want your dad to be in  _another_ broken relationship, do you?"

So Emma kept quiet. She did as told and said nothing, simple one word answers every now and again, but nothing to sell Ben out. She didn't have the mental strength to have to relive that night, she didn't want her father alone like the short memories she had from when she was younger, and she didn't want to say anything to cause it all to fall apart before her eyes. But at the same time, she didn't want to be kept in the dark for her problems, or fears, or everything she'd done and kept secret to keep this family together. But if it kept up any longer, there might not be any other choice left.

Emma shakes the thoughts away, knocking on Ben's door where she'd traveled up to after finishing the rest of her chores. She waits a moment, holding her breath and preparing to be hit with the earthy scent from Ben's cheap pipes. The door finally cracks open, and Ben peeks his head out; cheeks flushed and eyes red as though he'd been crying.

Ben: "What do you want?"

Sunday was also Ben's fall day, where he'd damn his cannabis calender and smoke whenever and how much he'd liked.

Emma: "It-It's your turn for chores."

Her voice is small, like thin silk ready to snap under any pressure. She watches Ben contemplate the quiet phrase, barely hearing him promise to do them later. She accidentally breathes too soon, smelling his putrid breath and stifling back a gag. She nods, choking down her spit and heading back toward her room as quickly as possible. The door locks behind her without a second thought and Emma sits on the edge of her bed trembling. She forces herself to take deep breaths, trying to calm down and ending up falling back against the bed crying. Tears run down the sides of her cheek, filling up in the hollows of her ears and blocking out any quiet noises. She hates Sunday, knowing that she'd have to go through another week of repeating hell.


	4. No One Ever Listens

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YEAH YEAH EARLY CHAPTER BECAUSE I'LL BE BUSY TUESDAY Y E A H

There are plenty of things that terrify Emma. Ben, Lisa and her father breaking up, and of course no one. Sometimes it comes when she's trying to sleep, never leaving a noise or sign that it's there before it's too late. She's never really sure what it's supposed to be from, whether it be her crippling fear of Ben or  _the incident_ , but she is aware that it's more terrifying and filled with regret and terror; like an ink that wraps her up and chokes her. She can't really say anything about it, she'd be called crazy by more than just the kids at school, but her family as well. _  
_

But sometimes no one isn't violent. Sometimes it just sits besides her and runs it's black, twig like fingers through her hair and listens to her thoughts. It never speaks back, and it never judges, so Emma wasn't entirely terrified of it. But tonight wasn't just a calm greeting, it was more or less reminding her of what she fears most.

She's laying in bed, looking out the window beside her rumbled covers and unwanted stuffed animals from ages ago. Then moon was starting to wane again, the stars dull and hard to notice from the lights of the city. And then  _it_ comes.  _It_ let's it's ink appendages scuffle up and around Emma and clasp so tight it feels like she can't breathe. _It_ squeezes her legs and arms, wrapping them against her chest and forcing her eyes open to watch as _it_ ate away at the room and left nothing but void on the walls and terror within Emma when it claps an arm around her mouth to keep her quiet.

 _It_ shifts, barely visible by the surrounding liquid-like flesh of itself. Emma starts to cry, choking on the aroma-less surroundings and darkness. She takes shuddery breaths, watching as two faint white orbs appeared before her like eyes. They had the glow of a car light through a raindrop; with a stringed aura around the pure source.  _It_ smells metallic, looks deadly as if _it_  were created from the shadows of hell, and  _it_ is swallowing her up. Emma shuts her wide eyes tight, counting and humming to keep calm but not knowing what to do and just giving out muffled cries as she bawled against the black. She peeks up at it with watery eyes, fearful of what she would see next and she realizes she doesn't feel the constriction of  _it_. She gives out a shaky breath, patting down her face and thighs to make sure everything was in it's correct spot. She looks around, seeing the faint yellow of the walls that looked green in the blue light of the night. 

She swallows and looks back out the window, staring up at the stars and furrowing her brows together when she realized she could actually see them. She whips her head around when her bedroom door open, and there stands her father with wide, but tired, eyes.

Dean: "Emma? What's going on? Why'd you scream?" he asks, voice breathy and dry from lack of fluids.

Emma stares at him, two pairs of equally green eyes staring at the other. Her slightly parted lips start to quiver and she cries again, reaching out for him and getting her wish granted when he comes forward and holds her to his chest.

Dean: "You're a little old for nightmares, aren't you?" he chuckles weakly, running a hand through her hair and pressing his lips to her uneven hair line.

Emma nods, swallowing her spit and clutching to his robe. She breathes in the faint aroma of a bar, a small scent of too strong perfume clinging to him. Emma's unable to tell if it's Lisa's or  _Angel_ 's, but decides to not think about either and just lay there again her father, remembering when she was younger and would have this happen every other night. She would wear her small flowered nightgown and he would always wear an old t-shirt and boxers. She could remember him brushing her hair and rocking her and singing her some stupid song that changed every night. While she didn't have it entirely as it was in that moment, she still felt content to be held again and to remember what it was like before Lisa and Ben and anyone really.

Dean: "Why don't you talk anymore, Em?" her father asks quietly. Emma pushed her face further into his faded tee, sniffing back wet globs of snot from crying. "Emma, please talk to me. You never talk to me anymore."

Emma starts to tremble, clutching to her father tighter and sobbing against his chest. She feels his calloused hands reach toward her jaw and nudge her to look up at him.

Dean: "Hey, it's okay. We'll talk soon. Maybe I could pick you up from school and we could go somewhere. But get your rest first, you still need to get up early."

Emma nods, wiping her eyes and shifting to lie down again. Her father stands from the bed and wavers outside the door while she shifts beneath the covers.

"Goodnight, Emma."


	5. Places, Places

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yay dollhouse idk what im doing i apologize if you're actually reading this because it's absolute trash

Emma cracks an eye open at her alarm, having not fallen asleep since No One came. There was less than a minute until it would buzz. Thirty seconds. Fifteen seconds. Seven seconds. Three seconds. One- and there it is. The high-pitched screeching doesn't even earn a flinch from her, a pool of something indescribable eating away at her chest like a parasite. She swallows, throat dry and chapped like her lips. She presses them together and reaches out, gently pressing the largest button to turn it off. The screeching ceases and Emma continues to lay there, wallowing in fear and guilt and whatever else she couldn't think of. It was starting to get worse, whatever  _it_ was. She wasn't talking at all unless forced, she hadn't eaten the day before, or even the day before that. And now she wasn't sleeping, if she kept this up she'd drop dead before Lisa.

She runs a hand through her hair, inner self turning up their nose at the feel of the greasy strands. She hadn't showered since Friday, and now it was Monday. Her heart clenches at the thought, realizing she would have to drag herself out of bed and force herself through another day. She pushes the covers off, nearly sitting up when heR father cracked the door open. It was odd for him to check on her so early in the morning, last night must have done something to him. Emma stares up at him, identically green eyes locked onto one another like the plan of a line just waiting to be drawn out.

The door clicks shut behind him and he shuffles to sit on the bed beside her.

"Emma," he breathes out, looking at his knees while his Adam's apple squirmed in his throat. "You probably don't remember your mom, but," he chokes up again, eyes starting to water. "I don't really know how to say it, but she's not doing so well right now." he breathes out, voice unsteady like bottle bobbing under and over waves of the sea. "She was in a car crash." he mumbles quietly, eyes transfixed on the light blond hairs of his legs. "She's in a coma."

Emma probably would have gasped, but she didn't. She stares at him, exhaustion settling in her eyes while she tried to focus on her father.

"She's dying Emma."

Emma continues to stare, face stone cold and pale, eyes drooping unsteadily.

"Emma, your mother is dying." he repeats, staring at her now.

Emma swallows, expression numb and emotionless.

"Please, say something, please." her father begs, eyes watering up. "I need you to talk to me, please." he chokes out, lips starting to tremble while tears raced toward the stubble of his jaw. "Emma-"

"What do you want me to say?" she breathes out, lungs tight as if it used up more than half of her energy to speak in such a dull tone. "I don't know what to say." she mumbles, wheezing in a breath as she became more exhausted. "I don't _have_ anything to say." she coughs, body seizing up as she hung her head and watched as wet patches dropped onto her pajama bottoms.

Her father is quiet, watching intently at her reaction. "Emma, why haven't you been talking?"

Emma shakes her head, to worn out to speak again.

"That's not an answer. It's not a yes or no question Em, just tell me, please." he begs, taking her hands into his. "Emma, please."

Emma's eyes droop shut like a magnet connecting with it's opposite; quickly but gentle. She takes in a short, quiet breath and hardly notices her head start to bob forward.

"Emma?" her father calls out, larger hand cupping her shoulder to keep her from slumping forward. "Emma, you okay?" he asks, reaching over to flick on her bedside lamp. He lifts her chin, staring at her red eyes, bloodshot from insomnia and sudden trauma. "Jesus Christ," he breathes, wiping some of her tear stains away. "Did you even fall back asleep?"

Emma shakes her head weakly, sniffing in the dusty air of her bedroom quickly and breathing out slowly, lungs still tight at the thought of everything.

"Em," he sighs, tilting her head forward and pressing a kiss to her forehead. "Go back to bed, I'll call in and stay home, okay? It'll be like when you were little. I'll make you chicken soup, you can watch old cartoons and just lay on the couch. Okay?" he asks desperately, cheeks hollowing as he swallowed his spit that tasted more like morning breath in a liquid form.

Emma nods, sniffling again and clinging to her father. She feels his chest fall flat as he sighs out a breath and picks her up, he wasn't as muscular as when she was little, but he was still able to manage lifting large things every now and again. Not that Emma was large, she was starting to look a bit bony from stressing away her weight. He shifts her lithe body in his arms and pads down the stairs, laying her on the couch and wrapping a blanket around her before pecking her cheek. "I'll make some breakfast, you just lay down." he instructs, ruffling her hair and heading toward the kitchen when Ben trampled down the steps, coming to a halt at the sight of Emma.

"Why aren't you getting ready?" he huffs, grabbing an apple from the glass bowl on the counter.

"She's not going to school today, Ben." Dean deadpans, pulling a carton of eggs from the fridge.

"Why not?" Ben asks over his mouthful of food.

"She didn't sleep and she hasn't eaten. She's not in shape to go to school." her father explains, glancing over to check on her. Emma swallows, wishing she could answer for herself.

"Does that mean I get to stay home? I didn't get much sleep, I didn't fall asleep until three." Ben groans, pouting in hopes of getting Dean to agree.

"No." Dean replies bluntly. "Staying up way past your bed time to watch porn doesn't substitute whatever Emma's going through." Dean huffs.

Ben sputters, choking on his apple. "I do not watch porn, dad." he bickers.

"Ben," Dean sighs, hanging his head with a packet of bacon in his hand. "I was fifteen once, I acted like I was fifteen way too long too. Plus you aren't exactly careful with it. Like, Jesus kid use an incognito window or something." Dean grumbles, tossing the bacon on the counter with a wet thud.

Ben blushes and throws his backpack over his shoulder. "Fine, whatever. I'm going to school." he grumbles.

Something inside Emma snaps and she jerks her head up at Ben's statement. "No, you're not." she croaks out.

Ben freezes, looking over at her with wide eyes. "What do you mean I'm not?"

Emma swallows, feeling a burst of light eat away at the pain in her gut and chest. "You plan on smoking weed with those weirdo's." she huffs, loud enough for her father to hear and turn in interest of the conversation.

"I do not smoke weed!" Ben sputters, clenching his fists at the statement.

"Yes you do, I caught you. Your bedroom smells like it too. But you told me that if I said anything I'd be raped again." Emma says calmly, as if she had nothing left to lose. 

"Woah, woah, woah, again?" her father interrupts. "What-"

"I didn't say you'd be raped again I said that mom and dad would break up and it'd be your fault _again_!" Ben corrects without a thought.

Emma can't help but smirk as her father gaped at Ben. "So you are smoking weed? So you are hanging out with some group of strangers? So you had someone  _rape_ Emma? Your sister? What the hell Ben?" Dean bellows, fists clenching in anger as he stared at his son shrink under pressure.

"I-I, uh-"

Her father keeps quiet, leaning over the counter and pressing his knuckles into the granite countertop.

"D-Dad-"

"No." Dean barks, earning a flinch from Ben. "No more lies and bullshit, have you even seen your sister? She hasn't been eating, her sleeping schedule is way off and her grades are starting to slip all because of you. There is no sugarcoating this, no more kissing your boo-boo bullshit. You don't get a prize for saying the truth or lying, I'm finding you a therapist and hopefully you'll start to see the shit you really did to your sister." Dean huffs, looking over at Ben with stone-cold eyes.

Emma's chest aches a bit, remembering how all Ben would have to do is jut out his lip and suddenly have Dean around his finger. But it was clear that it wasn't going to work, and while it did hurt to see her younger brother scolded, she couldn't help but feel pride in herself. Her pride hardens within her and she scowls. "But what about you and  _Angel_?" she asks, watching as her father's face fell flat again.

Ben's eyes widened and he looked between the two for an answer.

"Ben, get on the bus. I'll tell you later." Dean mumbles, stiffening up and watching as Ben hurried away.

Emma's lips part a bit, eyes wide and confused as she watched her father cautiously. "Dad?"

"Lisa and I are done. That's why she's been drinking so much." he blurts, eyes sad and dark. "I didn't want to say anything because it seemed like you had a lot on your plate. Ben knows, but not about Cas." he sighs. "I love him Emma, very much. And I hope that one day I may get to be with him. He makes me happy, I thought Lisa was like that but I was twenty-four and had my head up my ass." he sighs, running a hand through his hair.

Emma keeps quiet, watching him without blinking.

"He's got a daughter too, he thought he loved women. Her name is Claire, she's nine. I'd like for you to meet her, but I need to know that you're okay with it. All of this."

Emma swallows the moisture in her mouth. "You divorced Lisa?"

Dean nods, pressing his lips together.

"How long-?"

"Six months. I was gonna wait until you graduated to tell you, that way you wouldn't have to worry and all." 

Emma rolls her tongue against the roof of her mouth. "You're homosexual?"

"Bi." Dean corrects. "As much as I loved your mother and Lisa, I still love men too."

Emma nods. "I'd like to meet Castiel again." she mumbles quietly, fumbling to pronounce the name.

Dean's face lifts up, glowing it's pale caramel color of the bright light from the August sun and kitchen lights. "You're okay with it?"

Emma nods slowly. "But there is something I want." Emma breathes. "I want to meet my mom. Can I do that?"

Dean swallows again. "Kiddo, she's in a coma, she won't be able to hear you or talk."

"I know, but I want to see her." Emma explains, looking up at him slowly.

"You already do, everyday in the mirror. You look so much like her it's ridiculous." Dean chuckles weakly. "She's a few hours away, but I think I can manage it on a weekend." Dean sighs, grabbing a glass from the cupboard and filling it with water. "I mean, yeah you have my freckles, hair, and eyes, but you've got her face and personality. And you're strong, just like her." he smiles, handing the cup to her.

Emma takes a sip, rolling the water around in her mouth before swallowing and gulping down more.

"Hey, Em?"

Emma eases off the glass, looking up at her dad.

"Thank you for talking. I'm sorry I didn't notice."

"Dad-"

"No, I don't get off easy either. You've been going through hell because I couldn't pay attention. I kept walking away and shrugging it off on you and that's not what fathers are supposed to do. I've been treating you like and old doll and practically tossed you away, I'm so sorry." he rambles, barely paying attention to Emma setting her glass on the coffee table until her arms were around him in a hug.

"Thank you." she sputters, crying into his shoulder. "I love you, thank you." she rambles shakily, feeling his heavy arms around her. She feels him take a breath, rubbing her back and humming quietly.

"You're my whole world sweetheart, that's why I chose Emma for your name. Emma Maya Winchester."

Emma sniffs, burying her face against his shoulder.

"Get some rest sweetheart." Dean sighs, pressing a chaste kiss to her crooked hairline. "It'll all work out, but you need some sleep."

Emma nods, grip loosening on her fathers shirt as she fell back into slumber on the couch. The touch of the cool leather tricks her mind, making her feel as though she were drowning, sinking further into the depths but never choking for air or dying. She eventually stills, subconscious laying in the dark of her mind while she slept, watching everything pass by in front of her.

It's a small step, but it's a start.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NOPE it's not over! Yay I think. There'll be more Cas and Claire idk yay
> 
> -/-\\-
> 
> Waking Up to You is OFFICIALLY ON HOLD!  
> flowersforfangirls is having a rough time and needs support so there probs won't be any chapters for a while until she is 100% a-okay so don't go bitching if you read that and are completely upset


	6. Throw On Your Dress

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't really know what I'm doing all I know is that this isn't stopping

When Emma wakes up, it's to her father nudging her shoulder. She slits her eyes open, grunting and shifting to sit up before running fingers through her hair to straighten it back out. Her father sets a plate down, heavy with eggs, toast, and three strips of bacon, then moves to sit beside her. He's quiet, watching Emma puncture the crispy bacon with her teeth and chew a bit before swallowing, then he coughs.

"How're you feeling?"

Emma ponders the question, the gritty texture of fried meat rolling around the crevices of her tastebuds. She hadn't really had time to think of an answer herself, still pondering the entire situation. She swallows, rolling the tip of her tongue across the roof of her mouth to catch any stray crumbs.

"I don't know." she blurts, voice achy and frail. She reaches over for the glass of water from before, taking a small sip and making an inner grimace at how it had heated to room temperature. Her father sighs and Emma holds back a wince, noting how it seemed hard for him to breathe with his chest expanding tightly and Adam's apple throbbing in his throat. Emma rolls the last bit of lukewarm water over her chapped lips and watches as he rubs at his forearm, twisting his watch around his wrist while staring at nothing in particular.

"Do I need to give you a bit to... process it all or whatever?" he asks, voice taut and breathy.

Emma parts her lips to answer, then presses them together when she finds she's at a lack of an answer. "I... don't really know." she mumbles, shifting to kick her feet beneath her thighs on the couch.

Her father hesitates to speak. "Have you been... cutting?" he asks quietly, unable to tell by the long-sleeved pajama shirt.

Emma notices his glance to her forearms and drops her piece of bacon, hitching the sleeves up to her elbows and showing her father both sides. "No cuts, I just felt really sick and heavy."

"Heavy?"

"Yeah... like something was just dropped on me. Not like a box, but more like ink. Like I was just wandering around and the more I tried to escape it the heavier it felt and the harder it was to sleep and eat and... talk." 

Her father swallows, throat easing up a bit. "I'm sorry, I should have paid attention. I knew something was up I just... didn't act out on it. I'm sorry." Emma adjusts her sleeves again, glancing up at her father's guilt-stricken features. "I shouldn't have played it off like I was busy, I should have balanced it better instead of pushing you away. I won't do it again." he mumbles, biting at the inner of his lower lip.

"Dad, why were you always with _An_ -Castiel?" Emma asks quietly, careful to use his real name.

Her father sighs and runs a hand over his face. "Because he's got a kid but barely enough time or money to take care of her." he admits, voice wavering with an unknown emotion. "Claire's only nine, but Cas can't afford to hang around and help her with homework and give her a home cooked meal, not that he can cook very well. But while I love Cas, I've also gotta help him out and give him a break. So I would go to his apartment and watch Emma until she went to sleep, then I'd come home. If I could."

Emma nods, pressing her lips together. "I thought Cas was a stripper-hooker-prostitute?" Emma blurts, unsure of what word to use and not cause offense.

"He is." Her father nods. "But he's also a male, and there aren't a lot of guys or gals that really enjoy that, so he doesn't get much pay. He had to drop out of high school and get a job whenever Claire came around, but then Claire's mother passed and Cas just couldn't afford much nor did he have a lot of time to look around for different jobs." he pauses, a small grin slowly painting itself onto his face. "He wanted to be an art teacher, but now he doesn't have enough time to draw. And he's already stressing about losing his job, he's not raking in enough."

"What if he loses his job?"

Her father is quiet again. "I don't know yet. I'm still waiting for Lisa to sober up so she can head back to her house like she'd said she would, but that could be another month if she doesn't stop drinking."

"Should we sign her up for a therapist? I'm sure someone would be willing to help out." Emma mumbles, stabbing at her eggs.

"That is true." her father sighs, clasping his hands together. "Well, how about you come with me to Cas' place? He doesn't work till late and Claire's still at school. Just to see the place, y'know?" he offers cautiously, watching Emma's fork move weakly in her nimble fingers.

Emma swallows, pressing her lips together and nodding. "That sounds nice." she agrees, finally taking a bite of egg.

Relief pours over Dean's features. "Eat up, shower, and get dressed then I'll take you down. Deal?"

"Deal."


	7. Put On Your Doll Faces

For the first time, Emma eats a solid meal and actually feels like a human being. She showers quickly, finding a simple t-shirt and jeans to slip into before searching for her dad. It was good to see him dressed so relaxed; scruff apparent and not a suit or tie to be seen. It looked good for him, like he was a normal human being rather than a drone for Sandover. She grins and a knot releases from her chest, reminding her that good things can happen even in the smallest of things. For once it feels like she's a little girl again, following after her dad to live in a new apartment and him promising it would be for the better, but this time the words actually meaning something.

* * *

 

The car ride is short, it may have been because time seemed to pass with every ounce of excitement that bubbled inside of her. The neighborhood was simple and colorless, looking like just breathing on a building could cause the structure to collapse with the town. Emma swallows, worry clouding over her thoughts until she felt her father larger hands ruffle her hair.

"It'll be good. You'll see." he promises, parking on the side of the street and looking up at a large apartment complex. "This is it." he sighs, a smile flickering over his features and crippling back down to a thin line. Emma looks up, glancing over the brick building and breathing in the familiar scent of weed. It wasn't the safest place, but it must have been cheap enough for Castiel to afford while raising his daughter and putting her through school. She follows her father up three flights of stairs, then watches as he knocks on the hollow wood door. 

There's a scuttle from inside and the door swings open revealing a 5'11 man with obvious bedhead and puffy eyes. "Dean? I thought you had work." he yawns, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

Her father presses a kiss to his forehead and combs some of his hair down. "I know, but there were some problems at home so I figured I'd come down and see you for a bit." he smiles, thumb grazing over the five o' clock shadow of Castiel. "You remember Emma, right?"

Castiel glances over at Emma and she immediately remembers every moment where she tried to ignore he was ever in her presence. She takes another deep breath and offers a smile, hoping it be good enough for the awkward circumstances. "Yes." Castiel finally agrees. "Lydia's daughter, right? She used to be one of my co-workers." Castiel chuckles. "A shame what happened to her. Please, come inside." he yawns, rubbing more sleep from his eyes. "I would have cleaned up if I knew you'd been coming." he sighs, looking over at the clock. "But, I just got home from the late shift three hours ago and with Claire sick... I just didn't have time to straighten up." he explains, gesturing to the dirty clothes and fast food trash littering the kitchen and living room.

"It's fine, I'll clean up." her father offers. "Em, why don't you let Cas introduce you to Claire?" he offers, clapping a hand on the shorter man's shoulder. "And then bed for you, you look exhausted."

Castiel shows Emma over to a spacious room, probably originally for adults but painted pink and yellow. He kneels by the bed, feeling the forehead of the young blonde girl laying in bed. "Hi sweety." he hums, pressing a kiss to her hairline. "Do you remember when I told you Mr. Dean had a daughter too?" he asks quietly, pushing her hair back from her face and grinning when she nodded. "This is Emma." he smiles, gesturing to the lanky seventeen year old behind him. 

Emma stiffens up, blushing and grabbing her elbow with the opposite hand out of a nervous habit. She holds her breath when Claire shuffles out of bed and stares up at Emma curiously. "I always wanted a big sister." she coughed, wrapping her arms around Emma's middle.

Emma's heart burns with her face and she wraps her arms around the younger girls shoulders. "I always wanted a little sister, I didn't get so lucky til' just now." she chuckles, brushing Claire's blonde hair back. "How 'bout I spend the day with you? Your daddy needs rest and mine needs to clean up." she offers, watching Claire's face light up as she crawled back into bed. Emma presses her lips into a smile, nodding as Castiel left the two alone, she watches in awe at how many features she'd gained from Castiel, the blue in her eyes and wide jaw. While they didn't have the same hair or skin color, she had the same lips and nose as her father, looking almost like a young gender bend of Castiel. She snaps out of it when Claire hands her a book, patting the bed for her to sit by. 

"We gotta know about each other, so this is my favorite book."

Emma looks over the cover, recognizing the book as her own that she'd let her father take to a goodwill years ago. The Seven Chinese Sisters. "This was mine." she breathes, looking at each girl carefully. "My father used to read it to me when my step-mom was pregnant, saying that I'd get a baby sister soon. Then I ended up getting a baby brother." she explains, flipping through the pages. "I'd choose you over him anyday." she chuckles, looking over at Emma. A thought crosses her mind, telling her that it was perfect. Possibly getting to come home from school and talk to Claire and hang out with her. She grins, closing the book and gazing over at the back. _Yeah, this is perfect._


	8. Everyone Thinks That We're Perfect

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is so short! I've been really sick these past couple of days and my wifi kept going out so I wasn't able to work on it a lot….

Claire ends up falling asleep during the time it takes Emma to read, so Emma decides to leave her to rest and check up on her father. He ends up in the kitchen, washing the dishes and cooking some soup for Claire at the same time. Emma wanders over, pushing back her still damp hair and eyeing the pot, a small smile cutting into her cheeks when she recognizes the tomato and rice soup.

"How is she?" Her father sighs, scrubbing at a ketchup stain that appeared to be glued to a plate.

Emma shrugs. "She's asleep now, so I guess she's good."

Her father nods, eventually wiping away the leftover sauce. "How are you?"

Emma shrugs again. "I'm… okay. I don't know." She mumbles, twiddling with her thumbs.

Her father goes quiet, biting the inner of his lower lip. "I'm… I'm really sorry Em." She says quietly, setting the dish and cloth down before taking her into a hug. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have shut you out just to help Cas and Claire, I should have told you and brought you along. I should have noticed when you were starting to act odd, I'm sorry."

Emma sits quietly, allowing her father to hold her before leaning closer into his embrace. "I know. I probably should have told you. I just… I was too afraid to."

Her father shakes his head. "You've got nothing to apologize for, nothing that happened to you was your fault. Don't believe anyone who tells you otherwise."

Emma nods, wiping her eyes and nodding. "Thanks."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ITS VERY VERY SHORT IM SORRY I DIDNT HAVE A LOT OF TIME TO WORK ON IT I'LL MAKE THE NEXT ONE LONGER


	9. Please Don't Let Them Look Through the Curtains

Emma continues to hang out in the kitchen, helping her father cook as Claire and Castiel slept. She hadn't realized it until now, but the dump of an apartment felt more like a home than her father's. She kept it to herself, setting the table with the barely clean bowls and silverware. She scrapes a dried corn flake off the side, grimacing when she couldn't get it off. Her father must have noticed because he starts to speak.

"Yeah, they're dishes aren't exactly clean. It's hard to wash them by hand with little time." he sighs, switching out the bowl with a slightly cleaner one.

Emma bites her lip, glancing as her father set the dish in the sink again. "When will they be living with us?" 

Her father sighs, tapping his fingers along the countertop. "Lisa is taking Ben to therapy in her mother's town, so she should be out by Friday. Then we can work on moving them in." he explains, grabbing a potholder and gripping the handle of the tomato and rice soup. "Go see if Cas is up, I'll take Claire hers." he orders, making a bowl and heading toward the larger room. Emma wanders toward the opposite end of the room, knocking on the hollow door lightly and opening up. She pokes her head in, noticing how Castiel hunched over the side of the bed, tapping his fingers on his knees and hushing something over the small phone on his nightstand.

"Castiel?" she calls out, watching as he gave a fierce jolt at the sound of her voice.

"Uh-yeah, just a moment." he breathes out shakily, mumbling something into the receiver.

Emma feels a chill run down her spine, closing his door and taking a breath. She recalled her chemistry class where a substitute had told the class what certain drugs will do if you try to quit. Heroin had seemed to be the worst, where the abuser would start to fidget and crave badly enough to cause them to lash out. She breathes out, swallowing thickly as her father shut Claire's door and flashed her a worried look.

"Something wrong?"

Emma doesn't hesitate, shuffling toward him and keeping her voice quiet. "Does Castiel do drugs?' she breathes out, watching as her father pressed his lips together and nodded. 

"He's getting better, he used to do acid and take pain medications, but he's still trying to stop a few others." Dean explains. "Don't bring it up or seem shifty because of it, he's not gonna hurt you, and if he does, he doesn't mean it."

Emma swallows, looking back at Castiel's bedroom door and feeling guilt wash over her. She'd only seen him fidget and because of his location she was already believing that he was some addict who wouldn't stop. She slapped herself mentally rubbing her arms nervously and sitting at the small table, blowing on her soup before taking a bite and ignoring the burning sensation that washed over her tongue and the roof of her mouth. She's nearly done when Castiel finally comes out of his room, looking pale and shaky as he sat down beside her, eyeing his soup and looking like he was about to be ill.

"Are you okay?" she finds herself asking without a second thought, watching as he twitched from her voice. "Yeah, I-I'm fine." he reassures her, shrugging it off and picking up his spoon shakily, scooping some soup out and losing nearly the entire bite as his trembles shook most of it back into the bowl. Her father rounds the table, taking his hand and taking the spoon from him before scooping out another bite for him. 

"Eat up baby." he encourages him, watching as Castiel's color started to come back with the first bite.

Castiel continues to eat a bit more, still shaking as Dean tried to get him to eat. "How's Claire?" he asks Emma, trying to dodge the spoon Dean nudged against his lips.

"She's fine." Emma mumbles, pushing her empty bowl away and shuffling toward the living room, grabbing the afghan from the back of the couch. She head back toward the two men, draping the blanket around Castiel. "Are you sure you're not getting sick too?" she asks, knowing that he shouldn't be shaking that violently from only a few hours since his last fix.

"Maybe." he mumbles, giving a surprised grunt when Dean managed to lodge the spoon into her mouth.

"Eat." he repeats with a laugh, stirring the contents of the bowl and scraping out another bite.

Emma watches as it continues for a few moments, eventually feeling Castiel's forehead and retracting her hand. "Dude, you're burning up." she breathes out, grabbing a dishcloth by the sink and running it under cool water before rushing back toward him and dabbing at his face and neck. "Are you supposed to work tonight?"

Castiel's hooded eyes drop. "Y-Yeah, my-my boss he wouldn't... I won't be able to get off. He'll kick Claire and I out." he breathes out shakily.

Emma watches him cautiously, stiff as her eyes watched his glum blue ones. "He won't let you quit." she says bluntly.

Castiel nods his head sadly. "I owe him too much money, if I don't work it off then... I might lose Claire." he breathes out shakily, tucking the afghan into the pits of his arms. "I don't have enough to pay him off, I have to work."

Emma glances over at her father, clearly begging him to do something.

Dean sighs, setting the spoon and bowl back on the table and leaning onto his knees. "How much do you owe him baby?"

Castiel bites his lip, ducking his head and swallowing. "Twelve grand." he squeaks out, nearly on the verge of tears. "I can't skip work, I can't."


	10. Won't You Be a Good Sister?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay this is probs gonna be short because I was lazy and didn't write and had bad cramps and slept pretty much all week but yes here you go

Emma can feel something familiar set in her gut as she watched Castiel tremble as he held back sobs. Her father has abandoned the thought of feeding him and instead sets the bowl on the table and holds the shorter man close to comfort him, mouthing something to Emma about Claire. She scoots her chair back, giving no reaction as it tipped too far and fell over, and strides toward the larger room, opening the door slowly and glancing around at the night lights and silhouette lamp. She watches Claire shift, rubbing at her eyes.

"What's going on?" she yawns, fevered blush noticeable in the dim light.

Emma feels her mouth go dry and takes matters into her own hands. "You're going to come to my house. Our daddies have to get some money so that your daddy can get a new job and come live with us." she explains diligently, wrapping a blanket around the younger girl and hefting her up.

"Do I have to go to school tomorrow?" Claire grumbles, clutching to Emma's shirt.

"No, silly." she chuckles weakly, striding back toward the kitchen and giving her father a reassuring smile when he looked at her like she was crazy. "I'm going to take Claire back to the house, you can take money out of my college account to pay it off. Sound like a plan?" she sighs, biting her tongue.

"Y-Yeah." her father nods. "But I'm not going to take money from you, that's for college."

"Forget that, we can save up for that for the rest of the year, Castiel needs it more and he needs it now. I won't need it for another semester and a half." Emma explains, readjusting Claire in her arms. "It's now or never, and I don't want to watch Castiel lose Claire, or have to live in this place any longer." she chokes out. "He doesn't deserve that, I'm willing to give what I can. Claire can bunk in my room, I'll take care of her. You two can work out the money situation."

Her father nods and grabs the keys to his car, helping Castiel to his feet and leading everyone out and down to the main level. Castiel is shifted to sit in the passenger seat while Emma buckled herself in the back and clutched Claire, humming quietly to keep her asleep as she rubbed her hands up and down her shivering arms. The once agonizing drive felt shorter and Emma rushes in with Claire, earning the attention of Lisa and Ben as she bursted into the condo.

"Who's that?" Lisa demands.

"Doesn't matter." Emma mumbles, shifting Claire in her arms and jogging up the steps toward her room. She nudges the door open and sets her down on her bed, wrapping her up in another quilt and feeling her forehead.

"Where's daddy?" she whines, looking as exhausted as her father.

"Your daddy went with mine so that you can live here, remember?" Emma sighs out weakly, pushing Claire's messy blond hair back from her face. "You're gonna spend the night here and I'll take care of you tomorrow."

Claire seems to look better at that. "Okay." she yawns, hugging Emma's neck. "Can I watch TV? Daddy didn't have any at his house." she mumbles, sniffing harshly.

"Y-Yeah, c'mon." Emma mumbles, hefting her up on her hip and heading back downstairs. She ignores Lisa's demand to know who she was holding and sets Claire on the couch, flipping through the channels and finding some cartoons for her to watch before heading back toward the kitchen and grabbing a cloth by the sink and wetting it.

"Are you going to tell me who that is?" Lisa asks again.

"Claire, Castiel's daughter." Emma sighs, ringing out the cold water from the cloth. "Dad and Castiel went to pay off the debt, she's staying here tonight. You can leave if you want, since Dad won't be back for a while." she sighs, heading back toward the living room and dabbing the sweat off of Claire's face.

"Is my daddy in trouble?" Claire asks quietly, looking at Emma worryingly.

Emma hesitates. "N-no sweetie, your daddy just owes some money and my daddy is going to pay it off for him. That's all." Emma breathes out, wrapping the cloth around the back of Claire's neck and holding her to her chest. "That's all."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This will probably be ending soon, and if you're interested in any of my fics then you should know that "Bloodtype: O Negative"/"Waking Up to You" will be returning Feb. 28, Counting Thunder should be updated March 15, and I may or may not be writing a fic either by myself depending on if I can find someone who would like to be a co-author and such woot you can email me if you're interested in that or whatever woo
> 
> personal email: felixhasarrived@gmail.com  
> AO3 email: dyingfable@gmail.com
> 
> feel free to ask about the prompt and maybe we can work from there idk


	11. D

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> woo eight chapters left and then this is over yes then I can focus on more important things like the other fics

Claire falls asleep eventually and Emma's instead left alone to wait at the kitchen table for a call about her father. Her elbows start to ache from being pressed up against the hard table, fingers intertwined and resting on her upper lip as she stared at the home phone in front of her. Lisa and Ben had left for a hotel, not wanting to 'live with the disgusting product of a slut' as Lisa had poetically put it. She bites her lip, nearly drawing blood when her attention snapped up to the front door being opened to reveal her father and Castiel, still dressed in his loose fitting pajamas. She stands shakily, helping the shorter man to sit beside Claire and glancing over at her father for an explanation. He seems to sense her gaze and stiffens up.

"It's paid. I mean, I'm in a bit of a debt, but it's paid." he breathes out, running a hand through his hair as he watched Claire barely wake up and shifting to lay her head in her fathers lap.

"I said use my college money." Emma breathes out, crossing her arms as she tried to read her father's body language.

"And I said I wouldn't do that." He breathes out, smiling as Castiel started to run his fingers through Claire's hair. "Here, let's talk about this somewhere else." her father sighs, waving her over toward the kitchen table. The two sit as an uncomfortable silence starts to bubble up around them. 

"Why didn't you use my account?" Emma asks, crossing her arms and swallowing thickly.

"Because you don't like him." her father replies bluntly. "I can see it, you're just doing this all to make it seem like you're happy."

Emma stiffens up, feeling as though her chest was caving in. "I don't know him. We don't have anything in common." she mumbles, keeping her gaze fixed downward. Her father continues to stare at her, shifting out of his seat and leaving the kitchen for a few moments. Emma feels a chill run up her spine when she feels his presence again. "What now?" she sighs, biting her tongue.

"Nothing." Castiel replies, earning a shocked jolt from Emma. "Your father asked me to talk to you." he says gently, watching as Emma turned her head to look at him through the corner of her eye.

"There isn't anything for us to talk about." Emma grumbles, automatically regretting the words when she heard her tone.

"That's not what he thinks." Castiel mumbles, shifting to take her fathers place at the end of the table in front of her. "We're more alike than you seem to think." 

"I have nothing in common with a forty-year-old stripper." Emma snaps, watching as his lips pressed together.

"My mother divorced my father when I was a few months old, and from then on it was hell. Her second husband was an alcoholic gambler and nearly put us in debt before my mother kicked him out. Her third husband was abusive, he'd come home and beat her over every little thing. It was worse when he drank, he'd beat her until she was unconscious." he breathes out. "But my mother stayed with him because he had a high paying job, at least, she did until one day he came home and did his routine. I remember every detail, my mother laying on the kitchen floor while he stood over her, when he found me he forced me to-" he stops, an unknown emotion seeming to settle behind his eyes as he stiffens and bites his lip. "He raped me. My mother dumped him, and her fourth husband was... an awful man. He made my mother sell herself to other men. And when she started to age, he forced me into it. He's my boss, he had me on a short leash at all times. And then I met your father, and he was the first man to every show me kindness."

Emma stares up at him, mouth going dry as she listened to his story. "Oh my god." she chokes out, feeling as though she were about to be sick.

"I didn't want... to do this. I wanted to be a teacher, but with my luck I'd never get to be around anyone besides you or Claire." he chuckles weakly. "I know that my job seems to override my story, but I'm still a person. Our rapes and family don't define us, nor does any part of our background. I'm a person as much as you and... and I-I just want you to know that with my experience I know that I can help you. I love your father, and I can't wait to love you just as much. It's going to be tedious as we try and break through the awkward introduction."

Emma nods, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have judged you it just seemed like you were- and I didn't want my dad to have another broken relationship and- I-I'm sorry." she stammers, mind racing faster than her mouth. Warm arms wrap around her and she glances up, realizing that Castiel held her close to his chest.

"I look forward to being with you and your father." Castiel chokes out, trying to hold back tears as Emma hugged him back.

"Yeah, me too."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> shmoopy Emma and Cas feels are adorable


	12. O

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for being patient, sorry for the wait!  
> I'm still kind of meh so they won't always be super consistent sorry about that but feel free to browse through the rest of my works seeing as they're all like 10x more interesting anyway

Castiel ends up taking care of Claire when she began to violently cough uncontrollably, leaving her and her father to sit awkwardly in the kitchen. Usually, they would have just sat in silence and probably exchange a few words to one another. But after everything that had happened, it seems to burn and breathe with an indescribable aura.

"How are you doing?" her father breathes out, fiddling with his hands in his lap.

"We've spent the entire day together, were you not paying attention?" Emma mumbles, curling and uncurling her toes beneath the chair. She glances up, noticing her father's glum expression and sighs. "Sorry, I don't mean to sound snippy it's just-"

"No. I haven't been paying attention very often. It's just been me running around trying to do ten million things at once rather than focus on the most important things. Maybe I was running from Lisa or trying to be there for Cas and Claire, but I should have paid more attention to you. You are my girl, after all." he chuckles, offering her a small smile.

Emma attempts to hide her impish grin and presses her lips together tightly.

"See? There it is, there's the smile!" her father teases. "Your mother had the same smile, it's what made me fall for her."

"Really?" Emma asks, glancing up at him innocently as her father nodded.

"She always tried to act like a hardass and that she 'didn't smile', but I saw straight through that. She just needed something funny to smile at."

"So she saw your face?" Emma teases.

"I'm not funny looking." her father huffs.

"Your childhood photos say otherwise." Emma chuckles, watching her father lean back in his chair and quirk this lips into a smile.

"You get the smartass-ness from me." he mumbles, leaning back onto the table. "But I am sorry, for avoiding you and barely talking to you. I should have noticed something was going on, I just kept trying to avoid home."

"But... you're not going to do that anymore?"

"Nope. Never again. I'm sticking with you and working from home as much as I can until you're feeling better again. No matter how long it'll take." Dean reassures her. "I'll even shake on it, whenever you need me you just call and I'm yours in a heartbeat."

Emma watches as he juts his hand out, hesitant for a moment as she thought about how difficult it would be for her father, then reaching out and shaking it thoroughly. "Alright. But not for very long, I don't want to mess up your work schedule." she sighs, smiling up at him.

"For as long as you need me here." her father repeats. "So, how about I order a pizza while you help out Cas?"

Emma nods, heading back to the living room and stopping in the doorway to look back at her father. "Thanks."

"You're welcome." he grins, standing from the table and ordering their dinner as Emma headed back to the couch.


	13. announcement

Hey sup I'm just updating to say this story is basically shit and I may or may not delete it okie dokie

**Author's Note:**

> I have no idea what the schedule will be for this fic I'll just squeeze it in when I can because I've had this idea for months and it's starting to drive me nuts


End file.
